


Twelve years

by Florchis



Category: Naruto
Genre: (for the characters not for the readers), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Long Live Feedback Comment Project, Love Confessions, Male-Female Friendship, Parental Hatake Kakashi, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 16:07:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17389499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Florchis/pseuds/Florchis
Summary: After Sarada awakes her Sharingan, Sakura goes to Naruto for a bit of support, and their conversation helps her put her relationship with Kakashi under a new light.





	Twelve years

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, the starting point of this was "Kakashi helps Sarada with her sharingan", but since I am bad at writing action of any kind, this came out instead. Fair warnings:
> 
> * I watched like 2 episodes of _Boruto_ , so this doesn't intend to be canon-accurate in terms of Sarada, her relationship with Kakashi or the rest of the adults in her life, or even Sakura's relationship with them. You can consider this strays away from canon at the end of _Naruto Shippuden_ and Sakura also happens to have a daughter named Sarada here;  
> * I do not hate on Sasuke on this, but he is refered as an absent father, so if you can not take that, I suggest you let this fic be.

_**Cover me in compassion, consideration, and care.** _

_**Give me slow-burn love, low-burn love. Let our lives run thick and smooth like syrup.** _

* * *

When she got Naruto as a teammate, so many years ago, when they were young- aren’t they still young, technically? Why does it feel like every year of her life weights twice, thrice as much as it should?-, she could have never imagined this.

Okay, in full honesty, there are a ton of things she couldn’t have imagined, and even some that she would have laughed off if someone had told her. And yet.

Who would have said that the Hokage Tower would be one of the safest places for her in the world? It would be hard to not feel that way, not when Naruto is here, with all his power but also with all his heart.

They don’t do it often, because they both have high-demanding jobs, children to take care of, and a busy life in general. But when she feels that her skin is holding her in too tight, that out of her mouth would only come words to hurt, Sakura waits for night and goes to the Hokage Tower. She tells Shikamaru to leave early, that she will take care of whatever Naruto needs, and though she is not naive enough to not recognize the wariness on his gaze, he does what any Shinobi with a family would do: says good night and leaves.

(She wonders, sometimes, if Shikamaru thinks they are having an affair. It would be the easiest conclusion to make, but since Shikamaru’s is definitely not the easiest mind going around, he probably knows better. Sakura hopes that he won’t think too little of her to not expect her to hide things a little more if they were doing something so scandalous. In the Hokage Tower, of all places.

Hinata knows, and if she is okay with it, anyone else can rot, as far as Sakura cares.)

She never gives him a warning of when she is going to visit him. That is a good thing about Naruto: he can be expected to pick apart the urgent from the important.

(Is that a thing he has always known how to do, or is that a thing he has picked up with time? Sakura can’t be completely sure, and really, does it matter?)

She goes inside his office without being invited- and that is a thing she always does, when she needs to scream at him for being reckless or when she needs to put her foot down on one of the Hospital’s money issues-, closes the door, dims the lights and takes off her shoes without turning to look at him. That tells him immediately what she is doing there, and he stops working, no matter how important it was what he was doing, slips out of his white robes and opens up the windows so the moonlight can get inside without any barriers.

They lay down on the floor together, their bodies bathed in darkness but their faces showing up from the shadows, Sakura’s feet on top of one of the chairs to ease the pain from a long day standing up. Naruto always brings something from his desk to keep his hands in motion; he thinks better when there is blood rushing through his body.

They never stay more than an hour- there are reasons why they usually can’t take a night out with friends as more normal people do-, and sometimes as little as ten minutes. Sometimes, they tell stories about the past. Others, they speak about their dreams, and about their disappointments, too. Sometimes they cry. Others, they laugh. There have been a few times when none of them said nothing at all.

Tonight, since Naruto looks more worn-down than usual, Sakura tells him what has been choking her all week long before he has even finished laying down at her side.

“Sarada awoke her Sharingan.”

Naruto’s face is still in shadows, but she doesn’t need to look at him to recognize what that sharp intake of breath means.

“Um, that is, um, good, right?” His voice is raspy, and it is good to know that he is, as usual, on the same page as her. She doesn’t come here to share, she comes here to just… be, with someone who understands. “Keeping on with her birthright and all, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” There is a long silence after her reply, and she is glad Naruto doesn’t ask how Sarada awoke it. Her daughter has not told her yet, not exactly, but they both know what the toll is on having it.

“How is she holding up?”

Sakura shrugs, but the movement is lost with her shoulders against the floor

“Better than I am, I guess.” Naruto searches for her hand in between their bodies and squeezes it, and Sakura swallows down her tears. “Kakashi has been dropping by to help her with it.”

That is one of the few things that make sense; Kakashi is, after all, the only person left in their village that has ever held and used one.

“I am sorry.” She looks at him, confused, but he is looking at the ceiling and not at her. There is a ton of things to be sorry about in this situation- _I am sorry Sarada went through something that made her Sharingan show; I am sorry Sasuke is not here to help her; I am sorry life is shitty despite everything we have been through already-_ , but none of them is his fault, nor things he could solve himself. “I am sorry I hadn’t been more present for her, and for you.”

Sakura blinks at him, and since he is refusing to look at her, she squeezes on his hand, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough for him to know that it’s not forgiveness what she is offering him.

“You have a family of your own, Naruto, and a fucking hard job on top of that. And even then, you care for us a whole lot. And it’s not your job to do it. We manage just fine.”

Naruto nods and presses the thumb and the index finger of his free hand down on his temples, hard. He must have one hell of a headache, and Sakura sits up and motions for him to move his head in between her crossed legs. He sighs as soon as the first influx of her cool, soothing chakra passes from her hands to his head.

Eyes closed, he asks, “Do you wish Sasuke was here for this?”

Sakura ponders her reply for a little while, but there is no safest place in the world for her than this man, her best friend, and she comes clean.

“For her? Always. She wants her father, and she deserves having him. She deserves everything. For me? Not really. You know I am way past that.”         

Her chakra influx wavers a little while she waits for her answer anxiously: she knows they both love Sasuke, and Naruto offered his support while they were going through the divorce, but that doesn’t mean they have always seen eye to eye in regards of Sasuke.

“I understand,” is Naruto’s kind reply, his eyes still closed, and that means he doesn’t want to pull the focus of the conversation, and that whatever he feels about Sasuke and her relationship with him, it is not to be treated in this conversation. This is about her. “Have Kakashi been measuring up to the situation, at least?”

A smile forms on her lips, and something must make it tangible in her body or her chakra, because Naruto opens one eye to look at her.

“Better than you can imagine. They have some similarities, him and Sarada, they are both quiet and they worry too much, and they get along. Maybe he is trying to make up for what he stills thinks he did wrong by us. Maybe he has gone soft on his old age, who can know.”

Something about that must hit the wrong spot with Naruto, because he makes a grimace.

“I don’t think it is either of those, Sakura-chan. I think there is another reason why he does it.”

That gives her pause, and her chakra going to his temple falters and dies out. Naruto makes a weak sound of protest, but doesn’t say anything else, and lets her process.

“Wha-what do you mean by that?”

“I mean that he does it because he loves you both.”

He doesn’t even bother opening up his eyes to drop such a bomb, and that is another thing Naruto does: tell big truths without making them sound like they are such.

But even then, how can Naruto _know?_

* * *

The thing is that Sasuke left- has he ever done anything for her, except leaving? She better not think about that too hard. Sasuke left, but all her friends stayed, and Sakura is not ungrateful enough to not remember and appreciate everything they did and still do to help her with Sarada. Shikamaru has taught her to play shōgi, and Tenten how to throw a kunai with chilling accuracy; Sarada has gone on long adventures across the village with Gai-sensei and Rock Lee, and bird watching with Sai. Hinata has never made a new piece of clothing for Boruto without making also one for Sarada. Ino has bribed all the nurses on the hospital to let her know when Sakura has had a particularly rough day, and on those days she has always managed to take Sarada out shopping, or cooking, or flower-picking, and leave Sakura to pass out in peace first face on her bed. Before he became Hokage, Naruto was famously seen all across the village chasing after both Sarada and Boruto, both in hysterics. 

But despite all their efforts, at the end of the day, it was always Sarada and her, no one else.

Well, them and Kakashi.

At first, Kakashi’s support was small, not made in present body. He was Hokage at the time, so Sakura wasn’t expecting any help in particular from her perpetually lazy former sensei, but the bags of diapers that appeared regularly carried by ninken to her doorstep left little place for Sakura’s sagacity to guess. She let him do because all her friends were doing every little thing they could to help her with a newborn, and honestly, she needed the help.

But when Sarada turned six months old and Sakura tried to come back to her job full time, and discovered that everyone was stalling her, she had to put her foot down. Emphatically.

She broke into the Hokage Tower, pushed Shikamaru out of her way with the power of her gaze alone and dropped Sarada into Kakashi’s lap.

“If you are so worried about my kid that you won’t let me go back to work, here, you can take care of her yourself, _Hokage-sama.”_

Using his title was her final blow. Kakashi cringed at hearing it, Sarada’s head carefully held in the nook of his elbow.

“Maa, Sakura, don’t be like that. I just was trying to help you.”

She gritted her teeth, eternally angry that people would look at her and her precious child and only see this poor single mother deserving of their pity.

“You have no clue about how to help me!”

At that moment, Sarada stirred on Kakashi’s arm. They both looked down at the baby that didn’t wake up, but the distraction cooled down their argument one notch.

“You are right, Sakura, I don’t know how to help you. I have never known.” Sakura moved her head to look at him so fast that she got whiplash. Of all the ways this conversation could have gone, this one was not in her mind. “So, please, help me help you?”

She sucked in a sharp breath. He couldn’t have surprised her more if he punched her. That was a question for which she was not prepared.

“Let me get back to a resemblance of normal life,” she finally said, her arms crossed in front of her chest showing her discomfort. “Do that for a start, and then we can talk.”

Kakashi nodded, brought Sarada closer to his chest to support her whole weight with just one forearm and scribbled down a couple words with his other hand.

“I will send this as soon as possible, and tomorrow you can go back to work.” He stood up, and Sakura opened up her arms to receive again the welcomed weight of Sarada. Kakashi looked at her daughter for a second longer, and Sakura thought that sheepish didn’t look right on his features. “She is a peaceful baby. I can actually watch her if you-”

She cut him off, “On my terms, Kakashi.”

“Right.” He nodded, looking rightfully scolded even with the formal robes and hat and his perpetual mask. “Have a nice afternoon, Sakura.”

She nodded back and didn’t call goodbye while leaving.                 

* * *

She didn’t make use of his offer for a long time, and he kept his promise of not mingling with her business. He kept on sending the bags of diapers with his ninken, and Sakura never even told him that Sarada had outgrown that size a while back. The hospital could always use them.

But one day she called on him, and he came. It wasn’t even a particular day, or at least she can’t remember now was making that day so hard to traverse for her, but Ino was busy, Naruto and Hinata had their hands full with a sick Boruto, and she needed to breathe, and since he had offered, she called.

She left them in her home, a million lists of instructions, the promise on his side to send a kage bunshin after her if anything went wrong at all, and the promise on her side to come back in an hour.

She went to the training fields, and came back with bloodied fists but a lighter heart to find Kakashi sleeping on her couch, Sarada sprawled across his chest and one of his damn books covering his face.

Sakura let them sleep and put on the water for tea.

* * *

And… that was it. There was no big revelations, no grand love story between them.

For twelve years, she called, and he came.

Sakura learned that he wasn’t enthusiastic like Naruto, or challenging like Ino, but he was a reliable friend, and he was a good listener. She learned that he knows how to cook and that he is a bit of a maniac when it comes to house chores. She learned that he likes his dirty books because of the porn, yes, but he likes them more because of the trashy romance. She learned that he gets melancholic after a glass of wine and that he is not a morning person. She learned that, at thirty-five, he didn’t know how to change a diaper, or prepare formula, but that he is a fast learner, and he was willing to learn.

For twelve years, and with renewed intensity since he stepped down from being Hokage, Kakashi scurried his way inside her house and her family and her heart, till Sakura couldn’t imagine a Sunday morning without his grumbling about her lack of proper pancake techniques, and Sarada refusing her help with her homework, asking for him instead.

For twelve years, he has learned her manias and her fears, and she has discovered his scars and his insecurities. For twelve years, he took naps with Sarada between playground games and washed dishes with her and they bickered about putting things around the kitchen like an old married couple. For twelve years, she has shared good and bad times with him, sleepless nights when she had a fight with Sarada and early winter mornings of warm tea and old movies.

For twelve years, she called and he came, to the point that sometimes she didn’t even call at all, because she wanted him but didn’t need him, but he came anyway.

And now, even, there is something Kakashi and Sarada share and she does not, the power and also the grief of the Sharingan, the profound longing for the Uchiha men that gave that gift to them, and Sakura has found herself being utterly relieved that she can count on Kakashi to shoulder this situation.

It was that moment what gave her pause, when she realized that she didn’t doubt him even in the back of her mind, that him helping her and taking care of Sarada and being by her side for the good and the bad, was for her as much a certainty as knowing that Naruto will always be there to lend her a shoulder when she needs it, and that Ino would never stop pestering her to get a new wardrobe.

Kakashi has become her anchor, her confidant, the person that keeps her grounded to reality and at the same time allows her to fly, and how could she have not seen it before?      

* * *

But there is no way Naruto knows even one percent of all that, is there? They hadn’t been exactly secretive about it, there has never been anything to hide about their relationship, but they also have not been parading it around. Sakura has asked Kakashi to stay with Sarada to have one of these meetings with Naruto more than once, but she has never, in turn, told Naruto who was staying with Sarada.        

“Ho-how could you say that?”

Naruto has the nerve to roll his eyes at her, and Sakura represses the urge to give him a smack on the head.

“Are you honestly asking me this after you two have been acting like a cozy couple for twelve freaking years?”  

Her cheeks flush red, and her mouth hangs open a little bit, out of surprise.

“But how do you know _that?”_

Naruto huffs and sits up, moving his arms behinds his head.

“Honestly, Sakura, I am not the child you once met anymore. You know me really well, but you gotta know that also means that I know _you_ very well myself. Also, I would be a shitty Hokage if I didn’t know the village’s secrets hidden in plain sight.”

A myriad of emotions runs through Sakura at Naruto’s explanation. Surprise, because she hadn’t realized that everyone cared so much about what she and Kakashi get up to. Embarrassment, because apparently, she has been the last one to realize what has been going on between them. Relief, because Naruto seems relatively on board with it, and no matter how much of a knucklehead he can be, she cares a great deal about his opinion. Excitement, because a whole new path had been unveiled for her. Fear, because of exactly the same reason.

“Do you, um, do you think I should do something about it?”

Naruto gives her a half-smile, and that makes her realize how much times has passed, and how tired he looks.

“I am not saying you _should_ do anything. I’m just saying you should allow yourself to want what you want, and to feel what you feel. You, of all people, deserve to be happy, Sakura.” She nods, swallowing down tears, and punches him on the shoulder for good measure. “Hey! Uncalled for!”

“I can’t have you going all mushy on me, Naruto,” she explains, even while leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. She gets up, straightens up her clothes and extends one hand to help him to his feet. “Give my love to Hinata and the kids, will you?” He nods, and just when she is about to leap out of the window, she turns around again. It is not the moment to start this conversation, but he needs to remember that she sees _him,_ too. “Make them and yourself a favor and head home soon, okay, Naruto?”

His reply follows her through the roofs of Konoha, “Have a good night, Sakura-chan.”

* * *

When she gets home, Sarada is already sleeping, and Kakashi has settled down on the couch with a steaming cup of tea. Sakura takes a minute to take him in, his legs crossed under his body, reading glasses perched on top of his nose. It is not easy to notice the difference the years have made on him, because he still has the flexibility and the body built of a shinobi and his hair has always been grey, but there are laugh lines around his eyes, which is only fair for someone with such expressive ones.

“The water is still warm,” he says, without opening his eyes. Sakura breezes past him, pours herself a cup of tea and then sits down next to him. Only then Kakashi speaks again. “Sarada told me why she awoke the Sharingan.” Sakura sucks in a breath. She is burning with desire to ask him, but this is not his story to tell, and she bites down her tongue. Kakashi is looking at her intently from the corner of his eyes. When it is evident Sakura won’t ask, he keeps going. “There was, um, a bit of crying. Sorry about that.”

Sakura nods and thumbs the edge of her cup restlessly.

“Is she, um, do you think she is alright?”

Kakashi shrugs.

“She will be. She is a hard cookie, that kid of yours. Tough as nails but with a beautiful heart.” He nudges her on the ribs, gently, and Sakura realizes how close they are sitting and how it has become second nature for her to be this close to him. “Gets both from someone I know.”

He is being _playful_ with her, and how have her not realized sooner that this has gone a lot further than a helpful friend? She places her mug on the coffee table and turns to look at him directly.

“Kakashi, what are we doing?” Now that she has opened her eyes to the truth, she does not have the time nor the energy to be talking around the issue. He makes a sound at the back of his throat, and Sakura clarifies, “For the last twelve years, you have been the closest person to me and Sarada. You have given us uncountable hours of care, companionship, affection. I don’t want you to think that I am not grateful for all that, because I am. But lately, I have realized that-” Her speech loses strength, and Sakura writhes her fingers nervously. He has not stopped watching her, dark eyes fixed on hers, and that spurs her on to be more direct, go straight to the heart of the issue like a good kunoichi. “I realized that I have feelings. For you. Feelings that go deeper than a kind companionship between two adults. I have realized that I look forward to time spent with you and that I trust you with Sarada as much as I trust myself. That I don’t know what life would have been like without you for the last twelve years, and I don’t want to find out.” When she is done, Sakura averts her eyes, waiting for a reaction of any kind.

“Sakura, look at me.” She inhales deeply before doing it, and his eyes are kind when she finally looks into them. “Do you remember those months when Sarada was maybe five or six, when I told you that I had to stop coming because I had some very important Hokage things to do?”

“Yes?”

“Well, that was pure bullshit. There were none out of the ordinary ‘things’ for me to do.” He even uses the air quotes and everything, as he did back then. It was such a Kakashi thing to do that Sakura didn’t think that he might have been lying to her and wasn’t even bothering to come up with a better excuse. He tilts his head to the side. He doesn’t look remorseful, not exactly, but he doesn’t look pleased with himself either. “I was just… panicking. I had realized that in the middle of changing Sarada’s diapers and arguing with you about the proper way to fold socks… I had fallen in love with you.” He huffs and moves a hand up to toss his already messy hair. Sakura’s heart makes an unnatural double-beat inside her chest. “You and Sasuke had not officially separated then, not yet, and I was acutely aware that I was much older than you, and that grief has been the only progression after love for me. I was panicking, and angry at myself for doing such a thing to you and Sarada. And then… do you remember what happened then, Sakura?”

She does, in fact.

“I finally decided to file in for divorce, and I called you in the middle of the night in hysterics.”

Kakashi nods.

“And I came here, and you cried on the couch while I bribed Sarada into going back to sleep by telling her three different story tales, and after that, we spent the whole night up drinking sake and talking poisons.”

She remembers it, the dim light of dawn shining on Kakashi’s profile, making his scar look crimson orange while he lept out of her window, the comforting warmth of Sarada’s legs when Sakura fell asleep on the floor clinging to the feet of her bed.

“And what, did that make you fall out of love with me?” She is saying it as a joke, trying to lighten the mood, but saying it at all makes her mouth feel ashy and bloody.

Kakashi shakes his head slowly and searches for her hand to clasp it in between his.

“That night, I realized I was in love with you, but that it didn’t matter, because I loved you and I loved Sarada, I _still_ love both of you hard enough for it to be secondary. My primary concern had to be to do right by her and by you, and if you two wanted me in your lives, well, who was I to say no to that, you know?”

Sakura furrows her brow, her eyes looking intensely to their clasped hands.

“You used past tense.”

“What?”

“You said you ‘were’ in love with me.” Kakashi raises his eyebrows, and Sakura can imagine him wetting his lips under the mask. “Did that change?”

“Um, no. No, it hasn’t changed.”

“Good.” She moves her hand from between his to his elbow, where his skin is warm and rough. “I am sorry it took me so long to catch up, but I think we have proved time and time again that we both love you too. So maybe we can give the other thing a try now?”

His breathing is coming quicker, and Sakura can feel his blood pressure getting higher where her thumb is touching the soft inside of his elbow.

“Things are not different, Sakura. I am still too old and too cursed for you.” His voice sounds weak like he is parroting someone’s else words he doesn’t actually believe. Sakura scoots closer to him, and he doesn’t move back.

“I think twelve years is as much a long enough time as any to prove that you are a blessing to us, and not a curse.” She moves her hand up to his forearm, and her other one presses softly on his knee. His face is unreadable in the shadows. “I want you here, Kakashi, and I want more, if you want it too. Can’t that be enough?”

He moves fast, and he always makes easy to forget that he was the top shinobi Konoha had to offer for a long while, but it is easy to remember it now that his strong arm wraps around her waist. He leans his forehead against hers, and Sakura clutches the material of his shirt in two tight fists.

“I have been in love with you for seven years now, Sakura. How could you loving me back not be enough?”

Sakura opens her mouth, but no witty reply comes to her lips, so instead, she closes the last inch between them and kisses his lips on top of his mask. Something in between a sigh and a groan leaves Kakashi’s mouth at the contact, and after twenty years of wondering how his face looks like unmasked, she is in no rush to discover it now. Instead, she takes off his glasses and holds his face in between her hands and kisses his closed eyelids, the bridge of his nose, the angry line of his scar, his temples. He is trembling under her lips, but his hand is splayed strong and wide against her waist.   

It took them twelve years to come to this, and she wouldn’t change it for anything; they can take their sweet time for the rest.   

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of LLF Comment Project, whose goal is to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites:
> 
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